


An Offer Of Help

by Dawn Cunningham (Delta_Dawn)



Series: Highlander stories with Tessa [17]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Dawn/pseuds/Dawn%20Cunningham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richie is given a computer disk by a mysterious woman. The only problem is, the men who are after her are willing to kill to get it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Offer Of Help

An Offer Of Help by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

Duncan, Richie, and Tessa belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it. Most other characters are my own.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

************

An Offer of Help by Dawn Cunningham

Richie Ryan skated along the deserted pathway through the park. It was starting to get dark, which explained the lack of other skaters. Normally, he wouldn't have come here this late in the day, but he had been cooped up in the antique store all week. Duncan was out of town and Richie had been running the place by himself. Tessa had helped out as needed, but she had been busy with her latest sculpture.

The store hadn't been overly busy, but there had been a steady stream of customers demanding Richie's attention. He had never seemed to find time to uncrate the new deliveries during the day, and had ended up doing it in the evenings, instead. This had been his first chance to get out on his own.

Duncan had just arrived home about an hour ago and, knowing those two, they were probably already going at it hot and heavy. That was another reason he'd decided to take off for a while. He really didn't want to have to listen to the inevitable noises that drifted out of their bedroom.

Richie was just passing the east parking area when a car came screeching into the empty lot. The teenager paused to watch the car come to an abrupt halt as it ran into a tree. The door burst open and a young woman staggered out of the car, falling to her knees immediately.

Richie skated over to her as fast as he could. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously as he looked her over. She appeared to be in her twenties, with short brown hair and brown eyes.

She turned her pain-filled eyes up to look at him. "You've got to help me," she gasped.

"What can I do?" Richie asked.

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a computer disk. "Take this," she said. "Don't give it to anyone! Not even the police! I'll be back for it. What's your name?"

"Richie. Richie Ryan." He looked up as two more cars came roaring into the parking lot.

"Go!" she yelled at him as she pushed him up.

One look at the four men emerging from the other cars and the guns they were holding convinced Richie. Still, he couldn't leave her to face them. "What about you?"

"I'll be okay," she said as she struggled to her feet. "GO!"

One of the men fired his gun and the woman gave a muffled scream before clutching her left arm. "GO!" she ordered again.

Richie took off, pumping his legs and arms to pick up speed. He glanced back long enough to see the woman head for a grove of trees in the opposite direction. He hoped she managed to get away. A part of him wanted to help her, but he didn't know what he could do against four armed men.

He heard more shots and glanced back again. The men had separated, two of them coming after him and two following the woman. Richie tried to get more speed out of his skates. It didn't take long for him to leave the men behind.

Once Richie felt safe, he slowed down and tried to catch his breath. He had to decide what to do. Should he call the police? After all, the men had obviously been trying to kill him and the woman. If the police got there right away, they might be able to save her. Still, she had been adamant that the computer disk shouldn't be given to the cops.

As he thought about it some more, he realized the decision was really out of his hands. This was a huge park, and it would take him at least another fifteen minutes to get back to where he parked his bike. There weren't any phones between here and there, either. The men would be long gone by the time he could summon help.

Richie paused as he reached a spot on the pathway that overlooked the parking lot. Only two vehicles were in it--one was his bike, the other looked similar to one of the cars that had been chasing the woman. He debated for a moment before deciding that maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to go down there by himself. He'd passed another pathway a short ways back that would lead him to an area filled with restaurants. That would be the safest thing to do. He could call Duncan from there.

*****

Richie took off his skates, slung them over his shoulder, and went into the first restaurant he found.

The Maitre D' looked down his nose at the teenager. "I'm sorry. No shoes, no service," he announced coldly.

"I just need to use the phone," Richie said. "It's really important."

The man sniffed, but pointed to a hallway. "There's a pay phone over there."

Richie hurried down the hallway to the pay phone. He dug out the appropriate change from his pocket and dialed the number to the antique store. He almost heaved a sigh of relief when Duncan answered.

"Mac, it's Richie. I'm kinda in trouble--can you come pick me up?"

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked.

"It's hard to explain over the phone," Richie said. "Could you come get me? Please?"

"Where are you?"

Richie gave directions, then hung up the phone. He went back out to the lobby and positioned himself where he could watch for the T-bird. He tried to ignore the nasty looks from the Maitre D'. There was no way he was going to wait outside. For all he knew, those guys were cruising around looking for him.

After what seemed an eternity, the T-bird pulled up outside. Richie wasted no time getting into the passenger seat. "Thanks, Mac. I knew I could count on you."

"So what's going on?"

"Well, I was out skating and there was this woman and--"

Duncan groaned. "Don't tell me this is about a woman! When are you going to learn, Richie?"

"It's not like that!" Richie insisted. "She drove her car into a tree. I went over to see how badly she was hurt and she gave me this." He waved the computer disk in front of Duncan's face. "She told me to not give it to anyone--including the police. Then these guys showed up and started shooting at us. I wanted to help her, but I couldn't. I managed to lose the guys chasing me, but when I got back to my bike, I think they were waiting for me. So, I came over here and called you."

Duncan sighed. "You did the right thing, Richie, but how do you manage to get into trouble on a simple outing to the park?"

"It's a gift," Richie quipped. He was feeling much better now that Duncan was there. "What do we do now? Are we going to try to find her?"

"We'll go take a look around the park," Duncan said.

Richie gave him directions to the east parking lot. When they got there, they found the parking area filled with vehicles, many police cars with their lights still flashing. As they watched from across the street, one of the cars pulled out of the lot. The sign on the side clearly indicated it belonged to the coroner's office.

"Oh no!" Richie cried out. "They must have caught up with her and killed her. I shouldn't have left her alone!"

"If you hadn't, you'd probably be dead, too," Duncan said. "Don't start feeling guilty."

"Are we going to talk to the cops?" Richie asked. "I don't know what to tell them. She didn't want me to give the disk to the cops, but I'm the only witness."

Duncan was silent for a moment. "Yes, we'll talk to them, but don't tell them anything about the computer disk. I want to see what's on it first. We can always claim that she must have slipped it into your pocket without you knowing about it."

"Not in my pockets," Richie said, as he looked down at the disk he was still holding. "I don't run around wearing coats with pockets big enough to hide a sword. I seriously doubt anyone would believe that someone would be able to slip something in one of my pockets without my knowing about it."

Duncan glanced at the teenager's tight fitting jeans. "Okay, valid point. For now, I'll put the disk in my coat pocket. We can figure out what to tell the police later."

"Okay, Mac," Richie said, as he handed over the disk. "Sounds like a plan to me."

They got out of the T-bird and went over to the parking lot. When an officer stopped them at the entrance, Duncan asked to speak to the detective in charge. A few minutes later, a man dressed in a dark brown suit came over to talk to them.

"I'm Detective Sanchez," he announced. "You wanted to talk to me?"

Duncan introduced himself and Richie as he studied the detective. He was in his late forties, had dark hair that was already receding, and was slightly shorter than the teenager. "Richie was here earlier. He may have seen something that would be helpful."

The detective turned to the young man. "What did you see?" he asked, as he pulled out a notebook.

Richie told the detective about the woman and the four men chasing her. He tried to describe the men and the cars to the best of his ability.

"Hmmmm.... Why didn't you call the police?" Sanchez asked.

"I didn't know what to do," Richie said. "I was really freaked out. All I could think of to do was to call Mac. I guess I should have called the police, too."

"Hmmmm..." The detective scribbled some more notes. "Why don't you have any shoes on?"

"I was skating," Richie explained. "Then I went to find a phone. I haven't gone back to pick up my shoes yet."

"Hmmmm..."

"Do you know who she was?" Duncan asked.

"It wasn't a woman we found," Sanchez replied. "It was a man's body. I'll want you to come down to the station to see if you can identify him as one of your assailants."

Richie and Duncan exchanged confused glances. "Then she got away?" the young man asked hopefully.

The detective shrugged. "Or they have her. Is there anything else you can think of?"

Richie shook his head.

"Very well. Can you come down to the station later tonight?"

Richie glanced at Duncan. When he nodded his head, he said, "Yes, we can do that. Can I stop and get my shoes first?"

"That will be fine." Sanchez glanced at his watch. "Why don't you meet me there in about two hours?"

"We'll be there," Duncan said. "Anything else?"

"Just an address and phone number where you can be reached."

After giving the detective the necessary info, Duncan and Richie headed for the T-bird. Once inside, Richie turned to Duncan. "Do you think she got away?"

"I don't know, Richie. Maybe. Let's go get your bike."

*****

Two blocks away from the parking lot where Richie had left his bike, Duncan pulled the car over. "I want you to drive the T-bird home. Give me the keys to your bike. I'll go get it."

"Why?"

"Think about it, Richie. If they are watching the parking lot, and you show up to get the bike, they'll be able to find out who you are. If we leave the bike there, they'll also guess it belongs to you. But if I show up to pick it up, maybe they'll think it's mine."

"I guess that makes sense. Should I wait for you and follow you home?"

"No, go ahead. I won't be far behind. When you get home, go inside, and make sure all the doors are locked."

"Okay, Mac."

Duncan climbed out of the car, and waited until Richie had pulled away before heading for the parking lot. He kept his eyes open for anybody who might be watching the area. He almost wished he'd find someone, but there was no one in sight.

He retrieved Richie's bike and headed for home. The T-bird was parked in its normal place. He quickly checked it over for any new dings or scratches, and was pleased to find none. He retrieved the teenager's shoes from the saddlebags before heading inside.

Duncan found Tessa sitting in the living room glancing through a magazine. She looked up when he came into the room.

"Where's Richie?" she asked. "I thought you were going to pick him up."

A sinking sensation filled Duncan. "You mean he's not here already?"

Tessa shook her head, as she stood. "Why isn't he with you?" she asked anxiously.

"We split up. He drove the T-bird home--it's parked outside. Maybe he came in without you seeing him," Duncan suggested as he headed for Richie's bedroom.

"I've been in the living room since you left," Tessa said, following along behind him. "I would have seen him come in."

Richie wasn't in his bedroom, and Duncan quickly searched the rest of the apartment and the store. There was no sign of him.

"Damn! They must have been following us. I should have guessed..."

"Who was following you?" Tessa asked, her voice filled with panic.

Duncan quickly filled her in. "I thought they'd be waiting by his bike. That's why I sent him ahead. It never occurred to me that they might have been behind us and followed him home after we split up." Duncan paced around, filled with self-disgust. "I thought I was protecting him when I sent him on ahead."

"You couldn't have known," Tessa soothed him. "What's important now is to get Richie back. We'd better call the police."

For a moment, Duncan hesitated. What if the police were behind this? They'd given Detective Sanchez their address. He could have arranged for someone to be here waiting for their return. Richie probably wouldn't have been overly concerned if police officers had approached him outside. By the time he would have realized they meant him harm, it would have been too late for him to do much about it. Still, it could have been the men who had been chasing him.

Duncan realized he had no choice. He didn't have a clue as to why those men had been after Richie and the mysterious woman. Then he remembered --maybe the computer disk would yield some information. "Tessa, you call the police. Tell them it may have to do with Detective Sanchez's investigation. I'm going to take a look at the computer disk. Whatever is on it must be pretty important. Maybe it will help us figure out who took Richie."

Tessa hurried away to the phone while Duncan retrieved the disk from his coat pocket. He headed for his office and the computer.

Twenty minutes later, Duncan slumped back in his chair, frustration filling him. "I don't know what else to try," he admitted to Tessa. "Without the password, there's no way I can get into these files and find out what's on them." He glanced at the clock. "What's keeping the police?"

"I was wondering the same thing," Tessa replied hotly. "I am going to call them again. And I will demand they send someone immediately!"

Duncan gave a brief smile at her ferocity. Whether she would admit it or not, she'd grown very fond of Richie. Now, she was acting like a lioness defending her cub--except her cub was missing.

A knock at the door of the antique shop brought Duncan to his feet. He hurried through the shop and found Detective Sanchez waiting outside. "Come in, Detective," Duncan said as he stepped back.

Sanchez entered the store, looking around curiously. "I got a message that Ryan has disappeared."

"That's right. I sent him home ahead of me but, when I got here, there was no sign of him."

"Why do you think he ran off?" Sanchez asked.

Duncan looked at the detective in disbelief. "I don't think he ran off. I think he was taken."

"Hmmmm... Why don't you show me where this alleged kidnapping happened?"

Duncan led the way through the office, where he introduced Tessa, then across her workshop, to the back door. Stepping outside, he pointed to the car. "Richie drove the T-bird home. I picked up his bike and got home sometime after he did. He must have reached here, but he never went inside."

Sanchez pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. He carefully scanned the ground between the car and the door. Then he moved over to the T-bird and tried to open the passenger door. "Can you unlock this for me?" he asked when the door refused to open.

"Let me get the spare keys," Duncan said. "Richie has my set." He quickly retrieved the keys from the office and returned to the alley. He found Sanchez stooped down near the building, shining his light at the ground. As the Scot approached him, Sanchez reached out and picked up something. "What did you find?" Duncan asked.

"A set of keys." Sanchez stood back up and headed for the car. A moment later he had the door unlocked and opened. "Hmmmm..."

Duncan was beginning to find the detective's habit of hmmmming annoying. He would have loved to tell Sanchez to leave, but he didn't want to lose any chance at finding out what happened to Richie. So he stood by without saying anything while the detective searched the car.

Sanchez finally backed out of the T-bird, holding Richie's skates in his hand. "Well, if he ran away, he must be barefoot--unless he put the shoes on he was wearing before he went skating. I suppose they still must be on the bike if you drove it home."

"No, I took them inside with me," Duncan explained.

"Hmmmm... How convenient. Well, I don't seen any signs of struggle that would indicate he'd been taken."

"On cement?" Duncan asked in exasperation. "What kind of evidence of struggles did you think you'd see?" Duncan asked.

"Bloodstains for a starter," Sanchez explained. "Let's go back inside."

Duncan followed along behind the detective as they reentered the shop. Sanchez walked over to the sword case. "So, you sell swords. Hmmmm..."

"Yes, I do. What does that have to do with Richie's disappearance?"

"Well, it seems our John Doe down in the morgue was killed by a single stab wound from either a very large knife or maybe a sword. It's quite a coincidence that the only known eyewitness was brought back to the scene by someone who has access to swords. Don't you think?"

Duncan's worry for Richie escalated while his anger at the detective grew. It was quite possible that at least one other Immortal was involved in this affair. "Yes, it's quite a coincidence," he admitted. "However, I'm sure I'm not the only one in this town who has access to swords."

"True. Now, I would have pegged Ryan as the kind to be riding around on the motorcycle that was in the alley--not a T-bird. Do you always let him drive that car?"

"No. I decided to let Richie bring the T-bird home while I went back for his bike--just in case someone was waiting for him at the parking lot."

"And if they had been waiting? What would you have done then?"

"I can take care of myself," Duncan replied. "I've been practicing martial arts for years."

"So, Ryan came home, got out of the T-bird with no shoes on, locked the car, and left his skates in the car. He then conveniently dropped the car keys before being abducted. Then you come home, find he's missing and call the police. Or maybe Ryan followed you home on his bike, you decided he'd seen too much, killed him, hid the body, and then you called the police to make it look like something else is going on."

Tessa's angry voice interrupted them. "Duncan would never harm Richie! How dare you even suggest such a thing!"

"Just doing my job, ma'am. Experience has taught me that it's seldom strangers involved in these kinds of things."

"Well, you are wrong," Tessa snapped back. "Someone has taken Richie. You should be out looking for them--not harassing Duncan."

"Very well." The detective turned back to Duncan. "I strongly suggest that you don't try to leave town. If someone contacts you about Ryan, give me a call."

"Of course, Detective," Duncan said, while meaning the total opposite. He would handle it himself if Richie's abductors called. If another Immortal was involved, the police wouldn't be able to do anything about it, anyway.

Duncan walked to the door with the detective, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he closed and locked the door behind him. He turned around and faced a very irate Tessa.

"What an awful man! How dare he accuse you of harming Richie! He should be reported to his superiors!"

"Calm down, Tessa," Duncan said. "While he was way off base, part of his job is being suspicious about everyone. I doubt his superiors would think he'd done anything wrong."

Tessa glared at him for a moment before her face filled with worry. "What about Richie? What are we going to do, Duncan?"

Duncan hurried to her and wrapped her in a strong embrace. "I don't know, Tessa. I just don't know."

*****

Richie carefully pulled the T-bird out into the traffic, knowing that Duncan was watching his every move from the sidewalk. The last thing he needed right now was to put a scratch or dent into the Scot's beloved car. He was unaccustomed to driving with just socks on, so he drove very cautiously.

Safely home, Richie stepped out of the car, feeling the cold ground through his socks as he locked the door and shut it. He remembered the skates that he'd tossed in the back seat, but decided to come back out for them later. Duncan had been adamant about him getting inside as soon as possible, so he headed for the door.

Halfway there, two men brandishing guns moved out of the shadows. Richie stopped in his tracks and measured the distance between himself and the safety of the apartment. He knew he'd never make it in time--especially if the door was locked. The same was true for retreating back to the T-bird.

He was in big trouble.

"We want that computer disk," one of the men growled.

Richie wondered how long it would take for Duncan to get home, then decided he couldn't stall that long. There was only one thing to do. He tossed the car keys he still held in his hands at the men, making sure they would fall short. "Here it is," he said. "You can have it."

With the men momentarily distracted, Richie spun on his heels and fled. He knew this area like the back of his hand. Given enough of a head start, he would easily be able to elude the men.

He heard the muffled curse when the men discovered they'd been fooled. By that time, Richie was already disappearing around the corner. It didn't take long for the teenager to realize he was at a disadvantage because of his stocking-clad feet. Every rock, every pebble felt like a knife stabbing into him. He couldn't take time to avoid the puddles, and soon the socks were wet and cold.

Still he kept running. Zigzagging his way through alleys, Richie tried to lose his pursuers. He could hear their heavy boots thudding after him over his labored breathing. Desperately, he looked for a place to hide. He couldn't run forever. All the stores in this area were already closed for the day. He should have gone a different way. Someplace where he could find people to help him.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, knowing he couldn't run any further, Richie stopped beside a trash dumpster in an alley. Opening it up, he climbed inside, almost gagging at the smell. Carefully, he closed the lid, not wanting to give away his location to the men chasing him.

While physically repulsed at the idea, the teenager tried to burrow into the trash, finding an empty box to cover his head while piling garbage over his legs. Richie struggled to bring his breathing under control. He knew he had to be quiet or they would find him.

A few moments later, he heard the sound of his pursuers. They ran right past the dumpster without even hesitating. Richie gave a silent sigh of relief, but he knew he still wasn't out of danger. They might still come back. He had to stay hidden. As the adrenaline rush faded, he could feel his legs begin to tremble. Every muscle in his body ached and his feet felt like raw meat.

Then he heard the sound he dreaded--the men were returning. Richie listened as he heard the sounds of other dumpster lids clanging down as they were apparently searched. They were getting closer. Any moment now, and it would be this dumpster. He could only pray that they wouldn't look too closely. Or maybe they had split up. Maybe only one of them was looking through this alley. Maybe he could handle one of them.

An unexpected sound reached Richie's ears and he tried to figure out what it was while he strained to hear what was going on. It had almost sounded like a strangled cry. A few moments later and the lid to his dumpster flew open. The teenager took a deep breath and held it.

"You can come out of there now," a voice said. "I know you're in there."

Richie didn't move. Maybe they were bluffing. A blow to the outside of the dumpster jarred his aching body and he groaned.

"Come on, Ryan. I don't have all night."

Deciding he was well and truly cornered, Richie slowly rose to his feet, brushing off the garbage that was clinging to him. His first glimpse at the person waiting for him set his stomach churning. A nearby street light reflected off the long sword that was currently pointing at the ground.

*****

Duncan wasted another forty minutes trying to get around the password on the computer disk. He made a silent vow to himself that after this was all over, he would learn all he could about computers.

Richie had been missing for almost ninety minutes now. Whoever had taken him must know by now that he didn't have the computer disk. The next logical step would have been a ransom demand--exchanging the disk for the teenager. He couldn't understand why they hadn't called yet.

The only explanation he could come up with was that whoever was behind all of this had decided to cut their losses and take off. If that was the case, Richie was probably dead by now. If he was lucky, they wouldn't have bothered to dispose of the body. The teenager would awaken, then realize what had happened. Duncan was sure that Richie would come back here in that case.

Worst case scenario would be if they weighted the body down and tossed it in the bay or one of the many inlets. If that was the case, Richie might never be seen again. He didn't even want to think about the possibility that the men would leave Richie tied or chained up in some deserted warehouse after killing him. It might take months before someone discovered him in that case. Months of hunger and starvation. It was no way to start your immortal life.

Duncan tried to shake off his morbid thoughts. He went in search of Tessa to see how she was holding up. He found her in the living room where she was pacing back and forth.

"I don't like this waiting," she said when she spotted him. "We should be doing *something*!" she added, agitation filling her voice.

"I'm open for suggestions," Duncan replied, a bit sarcastically. "What do you think we should be doing?"

"I don't know!" Tessa exclaimed. "Something!"

Duncan moved closer and pulled her into a hug. "I know how you feel, but I don't know what else we can do besides wait."

Tessa struggled in his arms and Duncan released her. She refused to meet his eyes. "Maybe we should give the computer disk to the police. Maybe they can figure out who has Richie."

"I've thought about that," Duncan said. "But what if the police are involved in this? That disk is the only thing we have to negotiate with. I'm not ready to give it up."

Tessa sighed, then turned to face Duncan. This time she hugged him. "I'm sorry, Duncan. It's just that I feel so useless. I am so worried about Richie."

"I'm worried, too." Duncan stiffened as he felt the touch of another Immortal.

"What is it?" Tessa asked.

"Another Immortal," Duncan replied as he retrieved his katana. "Stay here," he added as he headed for the back door. A part of him hoped the approaching Immortal was Richie, even though he was way too young to have entered the Game.

Duncan cautiously opened the back door. A moment later, a pale-faced Richie collapsed into the Scot's arms.

*****

Richie slowly climbed out of the trash dumpster, his eyes glued to the sword. As his feet touched the ground, he gasped in pain and sank to his knees. He closed his eyes and waited for the killing stroke.

"Are you all right? Were you hurt?" a female voice asked.

Almost in disbelief, Richie opened his eyes and found himself staring into the same face from that afternoon. This time she was dressed in black jeans and a leather jacket. "It's you," he said, somewhat inanely.

"So it is," she said with a smile. "Now, where are you hurt? I didn't think they'd caught up with you."

"They didn't. It's my feet."

She put away her sword--a fact Richie greatly appreciated--then helped him to a sitting position. She looked down at his feet, then commented, "You're not wearing shoes!"

"No kidding," Richie replied sarcastically. "Maybe that's why my feet hurt."

"That could be it," she replied dryly. "I suppose you're wondering why I carry a sword around."

"Not really. You must be--" Richie managed to shut his mouth before uttering the word immortal. He could only blame his stupidity on the fact that he was exhausted and in pain. He knew mortals weren't supposed to know that Immortals existed. She might decide to kill him to keep her secret safe.

She rocked back on her heels and stared at him intently. Finally, she smiled. "So you know about us. I guess that simplifies things--less explanations needed."

Richie nodded slowly. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Marianne Judith Woodley, at your service." She made a mocking little half-bow in his direction. "But you can call me MJ. Now, I think we need to get you home."

"What about those guys who were chasing me?" Richie asked.

"You don't have to worry about them anymore. Since they were chasing you, I assume you still have the computer disk?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"Not on me. My friend has it."

She frowned. "Is this friend someone you can trust?"

Richie grinned for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I definitely trust him. You might as well know... he's like you."

"Oh? What's his name? Maybe I know him."

"Duncan MacLeod," Richie replied. "Do you know him?"

"Not personally, but I've heard of him. Have you known him long?" 

Even in the dim light, Richie couldn't miss the speculative look on her face. He wondered if he'd made a mistake telling her about Duncan. "Not really--about six months or so."

"I see. Do you think you can stand up?"

Richie struggled to his feet with her help. "No problem," he quipped, as he took a step forward. A sharp stabbing pain brought a gasp to his lips and he grabbed at the dumpster to keep standing.

"Problem," she said as she looked around. "Well, I can't leave you here while I go back and get my car. It wouldn't be safe."

"I can make it," Richie insisted. "Just give me a sec."

"All right." She moved up closer to him and put an arm around his waist. "Put some of your weight on me. Maybe that will help."

"I don't want to hurt you," Richie protested.

She laughed. "I'm stronger than I look."

Richie placed his arm around her shoulders. He took a cautious step forward. It still hurt, but it wasn't so bad. Maybe this would work. 

The trip back to the antique store was just short of a nightmare. Every step was an agony. Several times Richie was ready to give up, but Woodley kept urging him on. Never had a building looked so inviting as they came around the last corner and he saw the store.

Woodley almost carried him the rest of the way. Richie leaned against the building to take his weight off of her. Before he could raise his arm to knock, the door opened. For a brief moment, he stared into Duncan's face, then his legs decided to give up the struggle and he felt himself falling. He braced himself for the pain that would come when he hit the hard cement, but Duncan's arms caught him.

"Richie!" Duncan exclaimed as he carefully lowered the teenager to the ground.

"I'm fine, Mac. Just give me a minute to catch my breath," Richie managed to gasp out.

"He'll be fine--mostly exhaustion. It looks like his feet got cut up a bit, but other than that, there's nothing wrong with him."

For the first time, Duncan realized that there was someone else present. Someone who was immortal. He reached for his katana again.

"Whoa! You won't need that," she said as she held up empty hands.

"What did you do to Richie?" Duncan demanded.

"I saved his life," she insisted. "Then I brought him home. Listen, can't we discuss this inside? It's a little chilly out here and I'm sure it's not doing Richie any good."

"Hey, I'm still here!" Richie protested.

"Sorry, Rich. Let's get you inside," Duncan said. With some reluctance, he set his katana aside and helped the young man stand. When he saw the flash of pain that crossed Richie's face, the Scot picked him up.

"Mac! I can walk!" Richie's face turned red.

"Shut up, Richie," Duncan said. "I just don't want you to get Tessa's floors dirty." He turned to the female Immortal and said, "This way." He led the way to the apartment, very aware of the fact that his katana was still on the floor of the workshop. It would be very easy for her to run him through and take his head right now.

Tessa gasped when she saw Duncan carrying Richie. "Is he...?"

"He'll be fine, Tessa. Get some water and antiseptic."

Tessa hurried to open the door to Richie's bedroom before fetching the requested items. Duncan carried the teenager into the room and set him down on the bed, grabbing pillows to help prop him up.

The female Immortal followed them into the room. "By the way, I'm MJ Woodley," she introduced herself. "You must be Duncan MacLeod."

Tessa came into the room carrying a basin of water, the first aid kit, and some cloths. Duncan introduced the two females absentmindedly as he carefully examined Richie's feet. "What happened?"

"I got here just in time to see two goons chase him down the alley. I tagged along, took care of the goons, and brought the kid home."

"His name is Richie," Tessa chastised her. "He is *not* a kid."

"Sorry! Didn't mean to ruffle your feathers."

"Listen, why don't you go out and wait in the living room?" Duncan suggested, deciding he'd better try to separate the two females before they came to blows.

"Are you sure you don't want my help? I used to be a nurse."

"We can manage just fine," Tessa insisted.

Woodley shrugged and left the room.

"Can I have some water?" Richie asked. "I'm really thirsty." Duncan helped the teenager prop himself up against the headboard while Tessa fetched the requested drink. Richie drained the glass in a few gulps.

"Thanks, Tessa." Richie winced as Duncan tried to remove the tattered remains of his socks.

"You've made a fine mess of your feet, Richie," Duncan said with a sigh. "What did you do--run through a pit of glass shards?"

"I don't know, Mac. I was just trying to get away from those guys. I didn't have time to watch the ground."

"Well, this is going to hurt a little." Duncan reached for the basin of water and placed one of the cloths in it. With Tessa's help he gently started bathing Richie's feet until he could peel off the sock remnants without causing any other damage.

After refilling the basin with clean water, Duncan finished cleaning Richie's feet. He couldn't miss seeing the teenager's hands clenching the bedspread, or hearing the occasional low gasps of pain as he washed away the dried blood. "I'm sorry, Rich, but it has to be done."

"I know," Richie replied. "I'm okay."

Tessa lightly rubbed his arm. "You're doing fine, Richie. It won't be much longer."

Once the feet were cleaned, Duncan examined them more closely. "It looks like you might have some glass fragments still embedded in your heel. I'm going to have to get a stronger light. Why don't you roll over on your stomach, Richie, while I get one. It will be easier to do that way."

Duncan hurried out to fetch the light he used when working on the T-bird, figuring it would be bright enough to let him see what he was doing. He came to an abrupt halt as he came to the door leading to Tessa's workshop. Woodley was standing in the middle of it, holding his katana, and doing a kata.

For a moment, Duncan wondered what he could use to defend himself. Before he had a chance to retreat, Woodley looked up and saw him. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't resist." She swung the hilt towards Duncan and offered him the katana. "I've seen very few swords of its caliber. It must serve you well."

Duncan accepted the sword and fought the urge to check it for damage. "Yes, it does," he said shortly. 

"How's the kid...er... Richie doing?"

"He's fine. I think he has some glass embedded in his feet, but I need a brighter light," Duncan explained as he moved around her.

"Listen, why don't you just give me the computer disk and I'll get out of your way?" Woodley suggested.

"This won't take much longer. I want to have a little talk with you first." Duncan found the light he was looking for and headed back to Richie's bedroom, taking the katana with him this time.

Tessa gasped when she saw him carrying the sword. "Are you expecting trouble?" she asked. "Is she like Felicia?"

"Let's just say I'm not quite ready to trust her... yet."

"Mac, she saved my life!" Richie protested.

"Because she still wants her computer disk," Duncan replied. "Here, Tessa, I need you to hold the light." He got a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and, in a few moments, had extracted several small glass fragments. "That should do it," he said as he applied pressure to the wounds to stop the new bleeding.

"Great. I need to take a shower. I'm starting to really smell."

Duncan smiled. "I noticed. How did you get so... messy?"

"I hid in a garbage dumpster," Richie explained as he sat up.

"I guess that explains that," Duncan said. "Let me help you, Rich. You need to stay off your feet.

Richie looked like he wanted to protest, but finally gave a sigh of resignation.

Duncan lifted the teenager and carried him into the bathroom. "I think you can manage from here," he said. "Take a bath, not a shower. I'll get you some clean clothes."

The Scot returned to the bedroom where Tessa had already selected some clean clothes for the teenager. "Thanks, Tessa. I'm going to go call Detective Sanchez and let him know Richie has been found."

Duncan took the clothes into the bathroom, before placing the phone call and leaving a message for the detective. By the time he was finished, Richie was ready to move back to the bedroom.

Duncan checked Richie's feet one more time before reaching for the bottle of antiseptic. "This is going to sting a little."

Richie gasped for breath as the Scot liberally coated his feet. "That was an understatement," he finally managed to say.

"Does he need to go to the hospital?" Tessa asked. 

"No, I don't think so, but I think we'll take him in tomorrow to get a tetanus shot."

"Shot? I'm not going to get a shot!" Richie said, glaring at the Highlander. 

Duncan glared right back. "Yes, you are. End of discussion."

A light tapping on the door drew their attention. Tessa opened the door and Woodley entered the room carrying a tray. "I made some sandwiches and heated some soup. I figured Richie was probably hungry by now."

Richie's face lit up. "That sounds great. Thanks, MJ."

Duncan didn't miss the brief flash of jealousy on Tessa's face. He couldn't really blame her. It must be pretty galling to have another female--and an immortal one to boot--making herself at home. And to have Richie so pleased by it was like adding fuel to the fire.

"That was very kind of you," Tessa said.

"It was nothing. It's not like I fixed a twelve-course meal."

"I suppose you have fixed many of those," Tessa snapped back.

Woodley gave a brief smile. "As a matter of fact, I have. I was a master chef for a while--in a previous lifetime."

"Let's talk about this lifetime," Duncan broke in. "What exactly did you get Richie into?"

"I've been undercover with the DEA for the past six months."

"The DEA?" Tessa asked.

"Drug Enforcement Agency." Woodley pulled a badge out of her pocket and passed it to Tessa. "Anyway, there's been a major drug pipeline into Seacouver and we've been trying to find out how it works. I got a lucky break today, and got my hands on a copy of the files with all the info we need to shut it down."

"Except you got caught," Duncan added.

"Not exactly. But I was spotted leaving the office with the disk. They chased me, and I ended up in the park."

"Where you gave me the disk," Richie filled in.

"That's right. I'd hoped that all of the men would follow me, but they split up. I took care of one of the guys chasing me, but the other one shot me. Fortunately, I didn't stay dead long and I was gone by the time the cops got there."

"So are the police are involved?" Duncan asked.

"I think so--at least some of them. There's no other way to explain how these guys keep slipping through our fingers. That's why the info on that computer disk is so important. Now, can I have it?"

Duncan carefully inspected the badge that Tessa had passed to him as he tried to decide whether he believed her. He really didn't have any reason not to, and it would explain why someone wanted the disk back.

"Do you know the password for the files?" he finally asked as he handed the badge back.

"Password? Damn! I should have known. Well, maybe I can guess what it is. If not, I'll have to get an expert to hack around it--which shouldn't be too big of a problem."

"All right. Let's go give it a try. If the disk does contain what you say, it's yours to take."

"Lead the way," Woodley said as she stood up.

A few moments later, the two Immortals were sitting in front of the computer. Woodley started typing as soon as the password prompt appeared. 

"Let's see how predictable this guy is," she said. "Hmmm... not last name. Not first name. I don't know his birth date." She tried a few other words before giving a victorious cheer. "Kingpin--it figures. Let's see what we have."

Duncan watched as she brought up files filled with names, dates and places. Payoffs, bribes, drug quantities, dealers. It looked quite comprehensive.

"Satisfied now?" she asked. 

"Yes, I am. You can take the disk. How long before you shut down this group?" Duncan asked.

"Not too long--maybe even tomorrow. We just need to get warrants and the people necessary to make the arrests. Can I use your phone? I can get things started on their end."

"Help yourself," Duncan said. He watched as she picked up the phone receiver and placed it to her ear. A frown crossed her face.

"There's no dial tone," she said.

Duncan quickly stood and headed to the kitchen. The phone was dead there, too. A moment later, the shop and apartment were plunged into darkness.

"Duncan? What is going on?" Tessa asked from the direction of Richie's room.

"I don't know. Stay with Richie until I figure it out."

Woodley appeared from the office. "They must have figured out that Richie came back here."

"Probably because I called the police station and told them," Duncan replied.

"You did *what*?" Exasperation filled Woodley's voice. "Never mind. Do you have any guns?"

"Not unless you count the few antique ones I have."

"Great. Well, this is your place. How do we defend it?"

"There's only two ways into the apartment itself," Duncan explained. "This door that leads into the workshop, and a back door that leads onto the catwalk above the shop. There's no windows to come through in the apartment so we don't have to worry about that. They'll probably come through the door from the alley, but they may split up and use the front door to the shop, too."

"Well, this isn't the best place for defense," Woodley said as she looked around the kitchen. "There's too much glass around. Still, in the dark, they may not realize it. Expect them to come in shooting. The stakes are high."

"I agree. I'll show you to the other door. You can defend that," Duncan said. He could only hope she would do her part. With Tessa and Richie here, the stakes were very high indeed. 

After showing Woodley where to wait, Duncan hurried to Richie's room.

"I want you two to stay here. Get down on the floor on the far side of the bed and stay there--no matter what you hear."

"I want to help, Mac," Richie insisted.

"No! I don't have time to argue with you, Richie," Duncan replied. "These men mean business and they won't care who they kill. I need to know that you two are out of the way. I don't want to accidentally kill one of you, and neither would Woodley." 

"We'll stay here, Duncan," Tessa said.

"Stay hidden. Should they get this far, maybe they won't realize you're in here." Duncan gave Tessa a quick kiss. "I love you," he murmured into her ear as he hugged her.

"I love you, too," she whispered back. "Take care."

Duncan turned back to Richie. "Take care of her, Richie." He hoped that comment would be enough to keep the teenager in his room.

"I will, Mac. You can count on me."

Duncan headed for the door, giving a quick backward look at the two most important people in his life. If anything happened to them, he didn't know what he would do.

The Scot took up his position in the kitchen. While he knew the layout of the place, a sword was no match for automatic weapons. He would have to hope that the element of surprise would make up for it. An idea occurred to him, and he went over to the kitchen counter and selected several knives. They wouldn't be as effective as knives designed specifically for throwing, but they should still work.

Through the glass overlooking the workshop, Duncan saw the back door slowly opening. He moved back into position and readied his first knife. He waited until the first man was halfway across the workshop, and two other men had joined him before throwing. A moment later, a second knife followed the first. Both hit their target, and two of them went crashing to the ground. As they fell, their fingers tightened on the triggers of their guns, sending a burst of machine gun fire through the workshop.

The third assailant dropped to one knee, and let loose a volley of shots in Duncan's direction. The Immortal ducked back out of sight and cringed as he heard the sound of breaking glass. Tessa was going to kill him when this was all over with. He ought to buy a glass company--it would be cheaper that way.

He waited without moving, trying to hear where the man was. The slight crunching of glass underfoot gave away his approach. The machine gun was the first thing through the door, and Duncan let him take two more steps into the apartment before grabbing the gun with one hand. With his other hand, the Immortal chopped at the thug's neck.

With a strangled cry, the man collapsed. Another assailant came charging through the door, firing his weapon. Duncan dropped into a roll and came up with his katana in his hand, impaling the man. He died almost instantly, but the Scot had paid the price. His left arm had been hit and he was bleeding badly. It would take several minutes to heal, but he could still use it. 

Duncan took a quick glance into the workshop. Except for the two men on the floor, it was empty. A loud scream from the antique store sent him in that direction. Slowly, he moved through the office, trying to see how many more assailants were still there. 

From the door to the shop, he could see two bodies on the floor--neither of them moving. He moved further into the shop and found another body on the stairs. Yet another was on the floor in the middle of the shop. From the position of the body, it looked like he must have fallen from the catwalk. As he got closer, Duncan recognized the man. Detective Sanchez. He glanced up and saw Woodley on her hands and knees on the catwalk.

"You okay?" he called up.

"I will be," she replied. "Everyone else okay?"

"Yes. I'm going to check outside and see if there are any more."

Duncan cautiously peered outside. The street was empty except for a van that was parked in front of the door. A similar one was by the back door. No one else was in sight. The Scot closed the back door and braced it shut with a piece of metal. 

He turned and found Woodley checking the bodies. "Nice knife work," she said. "They're all dead." She stood up and sighed.

"We didn't have much choice."

"I know, but sometimes it seems like such a waste. Their lives are so short without doing something stupid like this," she replied.

The sound of approaching sirens filled the air.

"Looks like the cavalry are about to arrive," Woodley commented.

"I'll be right back. I want to tell Richie and Tessa that it's over."

"Get a clean shirt, too," she reminded him. "Bloodstains really show on white shirts."

He looked down and realized she was right. While he could probably claim the blood belonged to someone else, it would be easier if he didn't have to explain. 

Duncan headed for Richie's bedroom and opened the door. He saw movement to his right, and only his quick reaction saved him. Instead of hitting him over the head, the descending bat missed him entirely. If it had landed, his skull would probably have been fractured.

"Richie! It's me!" Duncan called out from the hallway.

"Mac? Oh, man, I'm sorry. I thought it was one of those guys," Richie replied.

Duncan entered the room. Tessa was in the process of putting a lamp back down on the bedside table, and Richie was still holding the bat. "I thought I told you two to hide. What do you think you were doing?"

"Just trying to defend ourselves," Richie said. "When we heard the machine gun fire, we didn't think you'd be able to handle all of them."

Duncan sighed in exasperation and shook his head. At least they had stayed in the bedroom. "Well, I handled it. The police should be here in a few minutes. I want you to stay in here--there's no reason for you to see the mess out there."

"It was bad?" Tessa asked as she wrapped her arms around him. "I was worried."

Duncan placed a light kiss on her forehead and hugged her. "It's over. I'll be back soon, but I've got to change my shirt so I don't have to explain the blood."

"We'll stay here," Tessa assured him.

Duncan turned to leave, but paused and looked back. "Richie, get off your feet," he ordered.

The Scot quickly changed his shirt and returned to the living room. He met Woodley coming out of Richie's room.

"Just took some candles in there," she said.

"Thanks. We'd better go out and meet the police. I've got a feeling we're going to have to do a lot of explaining." 

*****

Duncan was right--they did have to do a lot of explaining. Eventually, Woodley convinced the officers in charge to contact her superior. Things moved along faster after that. Finally, the dead bodies were removed and the majority of the officers left. The only ones left were members of the special task force that Woodley worked for.

The female Immortal came over to Duncan. "We'd like to move you to a hotel for the next couple of nights. You'll be safe there, and I think it would be for the best--especially for Richie and Tessa."

Duncan nodded. "I'll tell them to get ready. It shouldn't take long."

An hour later, Woodley showed them into a spacious suite in one of the nicer hotels in town. The elevator had required a special key to get to the floor, and two men had accompanied them, staying out in the hall as they entered the room. Richie promptly headed for the couch, while Tessa looked around the rooms.

"Until we finish the operation, we'll have two men guarding you at all times," Woodley explained to Duncan. "It shouldn't take more than two or three days. I know this is an inconvenience for you, but it's for your safety. You can use room service for your meals and have them charged to the room. If you have any questions, or want to talk to me, call this number." She passed over a business card to Duncan. "Any questions?" 

"Richie's feet should be looked at by a doctor," he said. "He may need a tetanus shot, too."

"I'll take care of it. A doctor will be here in the morning. Anything else?"

"No, that should cover it," he replied. 

"All right. Then I'll leave you alone. Have a nice night." She turned and left the room. 

Duncan went over to the windows where Tessa was standing gazing out, and pulled her into a hug. "You doing okay?"

Tessa nodded. "Just a little shaky. I just want this to be all over."

"It shouldn't be much longer," he assured her.

"But the apartment... the shop... there was so much damage," Tessa said, near tears. "There was blood all over." She shivered in his arms.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Duncan said, holding her tighter. There hadn't been any way to get her out of the apartment without seeing the aftermath of the invasion. "I'll make sure it's cleaned up before you have to go back home."

Tessa shook her head. "I just feel like I've been... violated! They came into our home, Duncan!"

"They were never in our *home*. They may have been in the workshop and the store, but they weren't in our *home*," Duncan insisted. He knew he was stretching the point, but he would do anything to calm Tessa down. "If necessary, we can find a new place to live. Open a new shop."

"I'm sorry," Richie's woebegone voice intruded on their conversation.

Duncan looked over at the teenager who was still sitting on the couch. "You're sorry for what?" he asked.

"This was all my fault," Richie said. "If I hadn't gotten involved, none of this would have happened."

Tessa pulled away from Duncan and went to the young man, sitting down beside him. "Richie, I don't blame you. You did the right thing when you tried to help that woman."

"Yeah, but now you want to move away. You'll sell off everything and pack up and leave! I'll..." Richie's voice trailed off.

Duncan realized what was going through the young man's mind. "Whatever we decide to do, you'll be part of it, Richie. We won't leave you behind."

Richie turned hopeful eyes to Tessa. "Really?" he asked.

Tessa hugged him. "Don't be silly. Of course we won't leave you behind. Who would we get to take out the trash and sweep the floors?" she teased him.

The young man smiled. "I didn't think of that. I guess I am needed, but I'm still sorry I got you guys involved in this."

"That's enough of that," Duncan insisted. "Besides, it was my decision to not hand that computer disk over to the police. If we had done that, nothing else might have happened. Now then, how about some dinner? Are you hungry?"

"Famished!" Richie exclaimed. "I've never had room service before."

"I think they may regret offering to pay for our meals," Tessa said with a smile. "Maybe we should have warned them about Richie's appetite. This could end up being quite expensive."

"Well, from the looks of this suite, they must have quite a budget. I really didn't expect this," Duncan said as he waved his hand around the room. 

"Your tax dollars at work," Richie quipped. "Don't knock it. Now, where's the room service menu?"

*****

They had an uneventful night. They were just finishing a leisurely breakfast when a knock came at the door. Duncan went to open it and, a moment later, escorted a man into the room.

"This is Doctor Bergman," Duncan announced. "He's here to look at your feet, Richie."

The examination didn't take long. 

"You've done a fine job cleaning up the cuts," Bergman announced. "Try to stay off your feet as much as possible for the next few days, and you shouldn't have any problems. All that's left is to give you a tetanus shot."

"I don't want a shot!" Richie protested.

"Well, you're going to get one even if I have to hold you down," Duncan insisted. "So you might as well get used to the idea."

Richie glared at the Immortal for a long moment. "Oh, all right," he finally conceded. "Ouch!" he yelled a moment later.

"I haven't given you the shot yet," the doctor said in exasperation. "That was just an antiseptic swab."

"Oh," Richie mumbled, turning his eyes to the floor as color flooded his cheeks.

"Now you can yell," Bergman said as he jabbed Richie's arm with a syringe. Deftly, he injected the serum, pulled the needle out, and covered the spot with a small bandage while the teenager remained quiet. "All done."

"Thank you for coming here, Doctor Bergman," Duncan said as he escorted the man to the door. "We appreciate it."

The rest of the day seemed to crawl by. Richie spent most of it watching television, but Duncan grew tired of being confined to the suite. However, when he suggested going back to the antique store to start cleaning up, the officers in the hallway protested adamantly, as did Tessa. He finally agreed to wait until the next day.

Shortly after dinner, the man in charge of the task team came to visit them. He introduced himself as Captain Roy Beecher. 

"I just came by to update you. Thanks to you, young man," he said to Richie, "we've just closed down one of the biggest drug pipelines on the west coast. We arrested over fifty people this morning, and have enough evidence to send most of them away for a very long time. We confiscated millions of dollars worth of drugs, too."

"Wow! That's great," Richie replied. "I'm glad I could help."

"Once things have calmed down a bit, the mayor and the governor want to meet you and thank you in person," Beecher said. "I'm just guessing here, but you'll probably receive a special commendation from them."

A pleased smile crossed Richie's face. "Really? Wow!" He turned to Tessa. "I'm going to meet the mayor and the governor! Me!"

"That's great, Richie," she said with a smile.

"You should be very proud of yourself," Beecher said. "The streets will be much safer because of you."

Duncan had to work hard to stifle a grin at the thought. It wasn't that long ago that Richie was one of the reasons the streets weren't safe. "Was Sanchez the only dirty cop?" he asked.

"No, there were two others. They're both in custody, too. Between them and Sanchez, the drug cartel always knew what the police were up to."

"Is it all over then?" Tessa asked. "Can we go home?"

"Yes, it's over," Beecher said. "You're welcome to stay here until the morning, though. The room's already been paid for."

"Thank you," Duncan said. "We'll take you up on that."

"Where's MJ?" Richie asked. "Why didn't she come with you?"

Beecher looked uncomfortable for a moment. "I'm sorry. She... she was... killed during the raid this morning. At least we think so."

"What do you mean 'you think so'?" Duncan asked. He had a pretty good idea, knowing that she was immortal.

"Well, I saw her get shot, but her body hasn't been recovered yet. The warehouse was down by the docks and, when she was shot, she fell into the water. By the time I got to edge of the dock, there was no sign of her at all."

"How awful!" Tessa said, her face a picture of sorrow.

"Did you know her well?" Beecher asked.

"No, we just met her," Duncan explained. "It's just a shock, that's all. Will you let us know if there's going to be some kind of funeral or memorial service?"

"Of course," Beecher said as he stood up. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out anything. I'll leave you alone, now. Enjoy the rest of your stay."

Duncan walked him to the door. Richie barely waited until the door was closed before speaking.

"What do you think happened, Mac? She's immortal... right? She'll be okay? How come she didn't just heal and get out of the water?"

"Yes, she should be fine. Richie, people saw her get shot. If she suddenly popped up without any injuries, there would be too many questions. So, she hides until it's safe to come out, then she moves away and starts a new life. It's part of being immortal."

"That sucks!" Richie paused for a moment and stared at Duncan. "If that happened to you, would you have to leave Seacouver? Would you leave Tessa behind?"

"If someone who knows me saw it happen, then I would have to leave here. But I wouldn't leave Tessa behind--or you. It would take a little time, but eventually we would be together again. For a while, you and Tessa would have to act like you were grieving. Close up the shop and so forth."

"Then we would tell everyone we couldn't stay here anymore--too many memories," Tessa chimed in. "And then we would join Duncan."

"Would you have to change your names? Would I have to?"

"That depends," Duncan said. "Sometimes you just have to. I've been fairly lucky so far and haven't had to do that."

"It sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Richie said.

"It's best to be prepared," Duncan explained. "Being immortal isn't easy at times."

"I guess not," Richie said. "I never realized..."

"Well, don't let it worry you," Duncan said with a slight smile. Richie would eventually have to understand these things, but not yet.

*****

Over Duncan's protests, Tessa and Richie insisted on going back to the apartment with him the next morning. He hadn't wanted them to see the remnants of the invasion. He had planned on cleaning everything up before they returned, but he hadn't counted on the Frenchwoman's stubbornness.

They took a taxi back home, since the police had driven them to the hotel in squad cars. While Duncan was paying the driver, Tessa and Richie moved to stand by the back door, but didn't make any attempt to go inside.

"Are you sure about this?" Duncan asked as he unlocked the door. "You can always go shopping or something."

Tessa shook her head. "I have to do this."

Duncan opened the door and started inside. He came to an abrupt halt when he felt the touch on another Immortal. "Stay here," he whispered to the pair following him. While fairly certain it was Woodley, he wasn't about to take any chances.

He cautiously started across the workshop, but didn't get very far before Woodley emerged from the office carrying a broom and dust pan.

"Hi. I didn't expect you back quite so soon," she said.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just cleaning up my mess. I really hate it when guests don't pick up after themselves," she said with a smile.

For the first time, Duncan realized that there wasn't any sign of bloodstains on the workshop floor. He turned to face the kitchen, and saw new glass panels were already in place.

"You've been very busy, haven't you?" Duncan waved to Tessa and Richie. "It's okay. Come on in."

"Hey, MJ," Richie greeted the female Immortal. "You look pretty good for a dead person."

"You're looking pretty good, too," she replied. "How are the feet?"

"They're fine. My arm hurts worse from the tetanus shot."

Woodley laughed. "Poor boy. I think you'll survive that, too."

"No sympathy," Richie groaned. "I get absolutely no sympathy."

"Richie, I think you should go inside and sit down. You've been on your feet too long," Tessa reminded him.

"Sure, Tessa. You want to come inside, MJ?" Richie asked.

Duncan saw the brief flash of annoyance that crossed Tessa's face. Apparently, so did Woodley.

"Thanks for the invite, but I've got to be going, Richie. Like I told Duncan, I just wanted to clean up my mess." She turned to face Tessa and Duncan. "I'm really sorry I got all of you involved in this. I never meant to bring this war into your home and I apologize for that."

"There's no need for an apology," Duncan said. "I would have done the same thing you did. Richie offered to help, and you didn't have much choice in the matter." 

"Besides, you saved my life later on," Richie said. 

"Actually, I think I owe *you* an apology," Tessa said. "I haven't been very kind to you. Richie is right. You did save his life and helped defend our home. I guess I was just a little bit jealous. You just seemed to sweep in and take over."

"I didn't mean to," Woodley said. "If anyone should be jealous, it should be me. You have a beautiful home, a man who's very obviously deeply in love with you, and a wonderful friend like Richie. You're very lucky, you know?"

"Yes, I know," Tessa said as she slid an arm around Duncan's waist. "I *am* very lucky."

"Well, I really do need to go. I have a new life to start. It's been nice meeting all of you."

"Where will you go?" Tessa asked.

Woodley shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'll just keep going until I find someplace that strikes my fancy." 

"Will we ever see you again?" Richie asked.

"Maybe. Stranger things have happened. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, MJ. Watch your head."

She smiled at him briefly before heading for the back door. 

Duncan kissed Tessa on the cheek. "I'll be right back," he said, before following Woodley outside.

She had a motorcycle parked in the alley behind the T-bird and was pulling on her helmet when he reached her.

"Does he know?" she asked.

Duncan shook his head, understanding her question immediately. "Neither does Tessa. She would worry even more if she knew Richie would be immortal one day."

"Yes. Ours isn't an easy life, and the young ones never seem to live very long anymore." She looked directly at Duncan. "This may be none of my business, but if I were you, I'd send him away now. You've already got a mortal lover. You don't need the extra burden of a pre-Immortal."

"You're right, it's none of your business," Duncan said, "but just for the record, I won't be sending him away."

"He's got a good friend in you. Maybe it will make the difference. He's a good kid and deserves to live a long life. Train him well."

"I'll do my best," Duncan promised.

"That's all any of us can do," she replied before starting up the bike.

Duncan watched her ride away. Someday that would be him. Driving away, all alone. 

He didn't want to think about it now.

The end.


End file.
